Wolf of Fire
by Kolial Riot
Summary: Gwyneira is a Dalish elf with a longing for more than clan life. When a wolf attack leaves her broken and outcast, she sets out to find all she's been longing for, meeting and experiencing some other-worldly things along the way. (An alternative story of the Dragon Age world - only vaguely related to the main events i.e does not focus on Inquisition solely)
1. Chapter 1

"Quite the view" he shuddered as the wind blew crispness to his cheeks, a sigh between them mistaken for the wind. There was a hushed longing to be away, as the cliff invited them through glaring sun and knee deep snow.

"Quite," she whispered amid a roar of blustering air flourished with white flakes that bounced around her head, filling the empty spaces of her mind. The pair stood in almost silence, save the chattering of their teeth and the crunch of footsteps on the trail behind them, "It's times like these I wish I could be a whole different person"

"Gwyneira, hey," he hissed sharply, gently catching her by the wrist to grab her attention, "You _know_ shouldn't say that out loud. Be more careful… The Keeper won't like it, much less your parents"

"Be calm, Bleddyn," she glared, a sharp look freezing him more than snow ever could, blue eyes like frozen lakes and pupils dark as coal. She remained still however, her wrist held in place by his gloved hand. A glance backward reassured them both no-one had overheard them, "They're nothing but thoughts, you know that" He smoothed the snow from her mittens and dared not meet her gaze, though he knew her eyes remained fixed on him.

" _I_ know that but do they?" He sighed but began to chuckle, shaking his head slightly, "I can just imagine the look on the Keeper's face if you were to tell her what we talk about"

"Ha! She's _your_ mother. I'm relatively sure she'd be more horrified at what _you_ say to _me_. She's disgusted at the thought of you being near a woman, let alone one that would put 'dangerous and disastrous' thoughts into your head". They grinned at each other as though the wind had carved a smile in the rocks that were they're faces. A shuffle behind them tore them away while snow was pushed aside by their feet and a large stick thwacked into the frozen earth.

"My apologies, falons (friends)," a voice croaked out, tired and rasping and out of breath. A wispy stream of thick grey hair fluttered about as two shaking hands crept their way to the top of the stick and settled heavily with the weight of the hearty old elf connected to them. Bleddyn looked startled, his grin still carved into his cheeks though as he turned to the man.

"Dai! Uhm, we were just-"

"Bah! You think it matters to me what you two discuss," the man cracked a crooked smile and wiped his reddened, button nose with the back of his sleeve, "Keeper Elena is pushing to find cover just past this ridge by nightfall. The Frostback Mountains are no friendly place to be after the sun goes down, believe me. So she's pushing hard and fast to get us there. Of course, she's no sympathy for an old man…" He continued to mutter his complaints about his back and the cold and the holes in his socks but Gwyneira merely sighed and looked down the cliff into the canyon below. Her eyes followed a ridge of rocks down to a deep frozen lake that looked as though it had not seen the sunshine from outside of a layer of ice. She had hoped she'd be given a way to explore down there but the more they walked the more she realised they were walking in the opposite direction. She'd never see the lake again; never feel just how cold its icy face was; never know its deepest secrets. Bleddyn took her shoulder and turned her around. With a small jerk of his head, they set off after Dai down more of the churned up trail. Bleddyn took hold of Dai's arm as the old elf steadied himself with the stick in his other hand. Gwyneira trudged just behind them, her eyes tracing the canyon walls around her. Her cheeks burned with the slow returning heat as the canyon sheltered them from the harsh ongoing wind. Her body was wracked with shivers and her teeth continued to chatter from her snow soaked furs. Even her hair felt wracked with ice and tangled with the thickest knots known to Thedas under her chunky red headscarf and fur hood. She played with the tassels at the ends of the scarf and remembered the lush green fields of the Lothering village farms with the smells of the baked goods and the heat of the glorious Summerday sunshine as she roamed the market in search of such goods. There she found the scarf drooping around the hooks of a wooden stall and bargained away a day of hard hunting and labour for the woollen 'rag', or so her mother dubbed it, disapprovingly. Those days were long gone now though and the thought of such happiness reaching Lothering seemed distant and forbidden as news of the defeat at Ostagar spread. If such creatures did lurk then surely they would seep through the Korcari Wilds easily and overrun the small hamlet in mere weeks. _"It's not fleeing, for we've nothing to fight for!"_ Keeper Elena had told the clan, _"This is not our land. If we were in danger from lack of food, we would leave! If we were in danger from lack of water, we would leave! It just so happens to be that we are in danger and, so, we must leave"._ So they packed up the aravels and began their trek before it became too late. They had walked for so long she had lost count but each day felt more of a chore than the last as the ice bit into her very soul. She tripped and stumbled over rocks and boulders in the canyon as snow filled the footprints behind her and concealed the entrance in which they'd just come through. So how long _had_ they been walking? Dai and Bleddyn were still in front of her and the aravels and halla were not too far away. Her head hurt to think of any colours other than icy blue, black rock and stark white though she longed for it as each step felt endless. One step after another. Would it ever end?


	2. Chapter 2

The day's light had all but faded and Dai's words rang true as the howl of wolves echoed the large sheltered canyon. The wind had calmed and blew over the top of the open canyon some twenty feet up. The sky and all its stars were exposed as Gwyneira sat by her family's fire warming her sodden, frozen feet and whittling away at an iron arrowhead. Small clusters of elves all sat by their fires around the canyon nursing ice-cold limbs and preparing food. Before her, Gwyneira's own mother was stirring at a stew bubbling violently on the flames; rams meat and elfroot in a thick, gloopy broth made from previous bones and fat boiled down with assorted herbs gathered on the journey. Her mother sighed and looked at her disapprovingly.

"Oh, I do wish you'd do something with your hair," she complained redundantly. She scoured for a comb amongst the packs as Gwyneira shook her head at the pedantic demeanour her mother harboured, "I've told you; if you're going to get close with the Keeper's son then at least make yourself presentable. Then maybe you'll be _considered_ as an option for his wife. At this rate, you'll be the only one unmarried!" Admittedly it wasn't the first time this had come up. Befriending Bleddyn made it seem as though she had every intention of marrying him which was, in fact, not at all the agenda but naturally everyone assumed she was vying for the position of the future Keeper's wife. With Gwyneira's older brother married to another woman in the clan and her older sister married off to the Keeper of a different clan altogether, Gwyneira was constantly feeling the mounting pressure. With the closeness in age between Gwyn and Bleddyn, the two were beginning to attract attention but Keeper Elena refused to act on it, vowing that Bleddyn could marry whomever she had chosen beforehand but only after her death. That at least gave Gwyn and Bleddyn some freedom for a time. Gwyneira was startled out of her day-dreaming stupor by a sharp tug at her hair. A comb ploughed its way through the fields of thick red-brown hair stopping every now and then as it painfully caught on the weeds that were her knots. The savagery with which her mother tugged and combed left her scalp aching with the sting of pulled strands and left her hair static and glowing in the fire light. Her mother smiled at her handiwork and trundled back to the stew, serving it out in large stone bowls as Gwyneira frantically smoothed the mess of flyaway hairs. She was quick to comb the hair back up into a twisted knot and secured it with pins before once again pulling over the top of her red scarf to create a cowl. Her mother muttered something under her breath as she handed Gwyn a bowl and left her to eat. Thunder clouds rumbled in the sky far away over the peaks of the Frostback Mountains and although she longed for the feel of rain on her face, Gwyn couldn't help but shudder at the thought of the ice cold drops freezing on impact. The air remained still though and the wind only howled above unnervingly. The stew warmed her hands and her stomach and she savoured the bitter liquid that heated her inside out. Wolves howled in the rumbles of thunder and someone among the clan began to sing an ancient Dalish tale to their children nestled in the aravels under the thickest of blankets and cloths. Gwyneira lay back on the log which she had sat upon and stared at the stars letting the gentle rhythm of the far off thunder and the soft, pleasant song, barely a whisper over the wolves and weather, send her into a gentle slumber.

...

A crunch of snow beside her woke her from a deep dream and she darted for the knife in her boot. She drew the small blade and leapt off the log in which she was perched within an instant and purred with sleep and aggravation as she tried to identify her opponent but all was met with a small hiss and a chuckle. Through sleep encrusted eyes she saw Bleddyn grinning, hands out before him in defence. Her eyes rolled as she reluctantly tucked away the blade and readjusted her hair from its entangled position in the piercings that adorned her pointed, pale ears.

"You're a fool" she hissed, her voice a bare whisper. Glancing around the canyon she could see no-one awake and almost all fires were smoking and damp or put out entirely. All of the aravels were closed up, including her own family's but still Bleddyn stood there grinning.

"Be quiet. We'll get caught" he beamed at her. He took a small, silent step forward and took her hand softly. She frowned.

"Caught? At what? I never agreed to anything yet… You know you can't just go dragging me places. _You're_ the Keeper's son. I'd never get away anything, unlike you"

"Sharp words," he jested squeezing her hand tighter and pulling her closer. She froze as his hands pushed down her hood and scarf, brushing away stray hairs that fell into her face, "I've something to show you. Come on". He led her through the camp, silent as wolves stalking deer, until they reached a crack running through the cliff face, "After you, Madame. You see, Cadoc was sent scouting earlier and found this exit. Useful, admittedly, but guess where it leads" Gwyneira merely sighed, climbing precariously through the narrow opening of the crack, feet carefully placed at almost ninety degree angles. She shuffled through the tight space, her breath shallow as the looming fear of getting stuck crept up until she exploded from the other end in relief. Bleddyn followed shortly afterward and caught her arm, linking his with hers and casually strolling onward as though everything was normal. Gwyn couldn't help but laugh at his comical, almost human, demeanour.

"What in Mythal's name are you doing?" she giggled but copied his stance, almost skipping through the snow as the wind whipped her hair violently. Her cheeks burned a deep scarlet, but whether it was from blushing or the wind she did not know.

"You said it's times like these that you wish you could be someone else," he said simply, his cheeky grin beaming white in the moonlight, "Well, tonight we're not part of a clan. We're just two handsome people out for a stroll". Gwyn couldn't help but return the beaming smile as they continued to dawdle down the uneven track between the dark green pine trees and huge big boulders. An owl soared past and the wolves howled under the moon's grace behind them as the pair strolled obliviously onward into the night.


End file.
